


Strung Along Like Plastic Beads

by She_Who_Only_Knows_War



Series: Lucy [9]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Damaged Relationship, Lies, Manipulation, Suicidal Thoughts, serious angst, triggering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:30:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4004158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/She_Who_Only_Knows_War/pseuds/She_Who_Only_Knows_War
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's pathetic, Lucy realizes. How a good, emotionally stirring day can go so wrong with only a few words.<br/>How she can be so happy and joyful one moment...<br/>And plotting to die in the woods behind her house the next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strung Along Like Plastic Beads

It's pathetic, Lucy realizes. How a good, emotionally stirring day can go so wrong with only a few words.  
How she can be so happy and joyful one moment...  
And plotting to die in the woods behind her house the next.  
It'd be simple, she thinks. She can't die here, on a visit to her family and friends in the city.  
But she only has to wait a few days and then she'll be by herself.  
No one will find her while she loses a battle she's fought since she was fourteen.  
It'll be over and everyone will think of her as the very last moment that their eyes met hers and she gave her love with only a look.  
She doesn't want her last moments - or what's left of her body to be what people envision when they think of her.

She doesn't want to hurt anybody.

She just wants to die.

Annalee won't really miss her. Lucy doesn't know why that woman insists on having anything to do with her.  
She's just another pawn. Another piece that her mother uses when she needs help.  
And, in return, all Lucy gets are broken promises. Lies.  
Lucy didn't used to hate lies so much.  
But now, she hates them so much she punishes those that do it.  
But Lucy hates herself, above everything else, for those lies.  
For believing them. For telling the ones that put an air-tight seal on her coffin.  
If she hadn't believed the lies of her mother, she wouldn't be so wounded.  
If she hadn't believed the lies of her friends, she wouldn't hate herself as much.  
And if she hadn't believed the lies she told herself, she wouldn't feel gut-wrenching hate for herself that is so deep, she punishes herself without even knowing it's punishment - a sick way of getting revenge on herself. Of avenging herself.  
If Lucy is honest, she doesn't hate anyone more than she hates herself.  
She hopes she can say her goodbyes in such a way that people will miss her instead of recounting all the bitterness and hate that has grown under her tongue like a creeping mold.  
She has no real excuse.  
But she has lived in the Dark, willingly, fearful of the Truth for so long, that it is always there, just under the shimmering Light. As if she were some Demon masquerading as an Angel.  
The Devil with the sweet face of a woman.  
And just when she thinks it's time to find a soft place to lay so she can stare at the sky as the light goes out in her blue-green eyes, her mother chooses her. Makes a decision that keeps Lucy hanging by a thread.  
And Lucy knows, one day, that thread will be something that physically hangs her.  
Because she will never. **Never**. Be good enough that her mother takes her feelings into account, doesn't smile while she twists the knife in Lucy's chest.  
Lucy wishes that her mother would just say it.  
Would just go ahead and destroy her with how she really feels rather than repetitively string her along.  
If she would just admit her hate, Lucy could, at least, stop hoping that maybe one day, her mother will come through.

Because Lucy would rather be destroyed by one, deadly blow than be worn away until nothing remains.  
Rather be torn open in one slash of the verbal blade than emotionally wrung until skin and muscle fade away to her bones.

She'd rather end her life now than hope, only to be disappointed to the point of heartbreak again and again.


End file.
